Forged for You
by Whimstories
Summary: "Excalibur? As in the legendary sword?" It wasn't until that moment Arthur realized the sword was no longer on the dining table where he left it. The cloth that wrapped around its blade was tangled in the limbs of the man gobbling his food. "You're the sword?" Excalibur!Merlin AU, Written for Merlin Reverse Bang


A/N: First off, I must thank the mods for their incomparable patience! This was my first Merlin fest and I went in with a pinch-hit and really stretched it to the last second, but it was beyond worth it and it's so wonderful to have caring people in the community keeping these fests running!

Secondly, oh dear Plu. I was so stunned when I first saw your art and you deserved so much more than me but I was so very happy to write this companion piece, and you were the nicest person which just hiked the stakes to live up to your work. We made it to the end, and your encouragement really helped in the early stages and I couldn't have gone forward without it!

AH, AND TO THE GREATEST BETA/CHEERLEADER IN THE WORLD! Sortasora honestly saved this story when I was stuck and pushed it with a bulldozer when I had doubts. Everything written either would've been very very different or much much shorter without her, and I can't thank her enough. Also a thank you to the Merlin Chatzy crew for encouraged me very very early on when I had no idea what I was doing and ensuring me that everything would've work out A-ok.

* * *

Arthur stared across the long wooden table, mouth in his hand, as the scarcely dressed man with a messy mop of hair and eyes too bright to be human scarfed down half of Arthur's breakfast. Not that Arthur minded as much, he could order more anytime he wanted. It was the savage manner the man ate and the fact he popped out of nowhere a mere thirty minutes ago that caught his interest.

When the man licked his lips, a thin basting from the roasted chicken shining on his skin and dripping from his fingers, Arthur decided it was time to calmly ask, "Who are you?"

He looked up from his meal, sharp eyes catching Arthur's voice from the air and investigating it with long, skilled fingers that knew too much of the world not to unravel Arthur in a singular glance. He took a breath and sat back in his chair, looking to the ceiling. "I've never been asked that before."

Arthur clenched his teeth and tried not to jump from his seat. "It's a simple question."

"That, I can agree. Too simple a question. Imagine if I asked you that question and you weren't royalty. A title isn't an identity. Well, unless you're a king with a very poor track record, I'd say that's enough to define you. But Prince Arthur, you're—" he gestured flagrantly at Arthur, who felt immediately affronted and straightened his back to look down as if he would find anything "— a good fighter with nice hair," he finished lamely. "I'm not sure. I don't know you, do I?"

Arthur suddenly felt off balance and didn't know how to handle the man's casual attitude. He felt he was insulted, complimented, and treated below his station all in one go. "Fine, what's your name, then? Why are you here?"

_Naked in his rooms_, Arthur wanted to clarify. He was positive his face was as red as they came a mere thirty minutes ago, and the man had just looked at Arthur confused. Anyone else would at least have some semblance for loss of decency.

"If you asked the Lake of Avalon, my name is Excalibur. If you're a friend, I'm called Merlin."

Arthur frowned, his face scrunching comically. "Excalibur? As in the legendary sword?" It wasn't until that moment Arthur realized the sword was no longer on the dining table where he left it. The cloth that wrapped around its blade was tangled in the limbs of the man gobbling his food. "You're the sword?"

"I am the sword, the sword is me. I find it confusing too, don't worry."

Arthur had no reasonable response besides groaning into his hands. "This is why I hate magic."

"That's interesting you say that," Merlin—as Arthur preferred out of the two ridiculous names—said. "Because I've been wondering how you can see me."

Arthur's frown deepened, if that were possible. "Should I not?"

"Most mortals can't," Merlin shrugged. "Only practitioners of magic—witches, sorcerers, creatures—could reveal my mortal form. So you're either a sorcerer or part Sidhe?"

"Sidhe?" Arthur's mouth twitched. Was Merlin calling him a girl? "No! I've never practice magic in my life."

Merlin observed him as if he was the most interesting thing in the world. Arthur, under these circumstances, definitely didn't want to be. Merlin rose from his side of the table and circled Arthur like a predator, eyes catching on every fray and motion. Arthur almost leapt out of his seat, the white cloth barely wrapped around the edge of Merlin's bony hips. Did all magical creatures lack modesty? "That's different," Merlin whispered, the words caressing down Arthur's spine in an ominous promise. Merlin's eyes caught at Arthur's shoulders and lit up. "What's that?"

Arthur glanced at his shoulder and only saw the customary bright red. "A cape?"

"No, you prat. That symbol. The stitching here." Merlin touched around Arthur's shoulder, the weight barely discernible. Merlin's eyes were awed and wide, clearly enraptured with the large dragon.

"It's the Pendragon crest. My family's crest," Arthur said slowly.

"Pendragon," Merlin whispered reverently, like it was meant to mean something. Like it did mean something. Which of course it did, it was a royal crest and the symbol of Camelot, but coming from Merlin it felt more magnanimous than Arthur felt in a while. Arthur sat still a moment, letting Merlin admire it until it became uncomfortable that he was letting a man caress his shoulder for an inordinate amount of time.

Arthur cleared his throat and it just brought Merlin's sharp eyes back at him. He fought from twisting in his seat. "Arthur." Oh, it was much worse when he said his name. "Are you in need of me?"

He also really wished he didn't phrase it like that. "N—" Arthur coughed around the husky cotton in his throat. "No. Though, I'm not sure what you mean."

"A sword. A weapon of war. Do you need that? Is there a battle you're expecting? Or a kingdom you need to conquer? Or something?"

"None that I'm aware of," Arthur answered slowly.

Merlin looked confused, staring at the crest again. Then he narrowed on Arthur, more steady this time. "Then you'll need me. I'm sure you will. Allow me to stay in Camelot."

"Absolutely not."

Merlin crumpled but his eyes were steel. "Why not? I don't have to be your sword. I can…be a servant! Tend to horses!"

"I don't want a magical-human-sword walking around Camelot where magic is outlawed. My father would destroy you in an instant."

"But you wouldn't," Merlin marveled, a revelation hovering over the words. Arthur realized his error too late. "You're a good person. You don't actually hate magic. You were just desperate to help your father."

It was true. Arthur sought the sword Excalibur to save his stubborn father from battling an undead knight. He knew his father wouldn't back out and Gauis said this was the only secondary option that could pass the nose of his father. Of course, he was told there was a legend which stated not anyone could wield the sword. It was lucky Arthur could wield it, but it was doubly surprising when his father took it out of Arthur's hands, insisting Arthur was not allowed to battle that knight.

Apparently, there was much finer print missing from the legends.

"You were only meant to be used once, then tossed back where you came from or locked in the vaults," Arthur said. "An object like you lying around is not welcomed in Camelot."

"Your father's Camelot. Not yours." Merlin crouched so he was looking eye to eye with Arthur. "I will not leave, whether you agree or not. I didn't make a mistake when I let you take me, and I'm not leaving you until you're done with me."

"I am d—"

"You are not, and there's no arguing."

"I am the Prince of Camelot. You're an illegal— practitioner of magic. You don't get to make demands."

"And you're the one who smuggled me in here. You're my high-standing accomplice. Don't forget I also saved your father, you sort of owe me." Merlin smiled wide.

Arthur scoffed. "I wouldn't say that."

"Oh, then who saved him? Another sword of magical destruction? I'd love to meet them, I'd have a few questions."

Arthur felt his energy draining from his shoulders as the argument with Merlin was clearly a lost cause. "You're not some cursed sword, are you? You won't hurt anyone?"

Merlin flinched before his jaw clenched and he shook his head. "No. I'd never. I promise you."

Arthur's brows merged. "Then why stay?"

Merlin smiled candidly, bright and crooked. "Let's say it's destiny that brought me here."

—

"Up and at 'em!" Merlin sang the next morning. Arthur groaned into his pillow and shuffled the blankets higher to hide from the rays shining from the now-opened windows.

"What are you doing?" Arthur grumbled.

"Preparing you for the day. Don't royals have personal servants or something to help them wake up? I assume it's because your heads are made of lead, you poor, poor dears."

"I said you could stay, I didn't say you could be annoying," Arthur groused.

"What's wrong with me? I'm great company. A ray of sunshine."

Arthur threw off the sheets, accepting his fate for the morning. He glared at Merlin dispassionately, who was, of course, grinning broadly as he always did.

"Unless you always sleep your mornings away. I didn't take you for such a lazy prince," Merlin said.

Arthur straightened in his bed, affronted. "We aren't all early birds now, are we?"

"Was that a joke about my name?" Merlin looked around before laughing a singular 'hah!' "That was almost sort of funny. Now come on! The quicker you're ready, the more we can do today."

"We?"

"Not together! Just generally."

"You? Walking around alone?"

"You don't seem to be satisfied with anything I'm saying."

"Because everything you're saying is irrational." Arthur shuffled out of the bed and stared blearily around the room.

Merlin wore clothes this time around. Arthur hunted down a servant the day before and asked for a handful of extra serving clothes. They brought an entire basket of dull browns and plain trousers. Merlin chose one of the brighter blue shirts with a brown coat. His pants were plain and he wore a bright red scarf. For a moment Arthur considered he wore that color on purpose, to declare fidelity of some kind. But recognizing Merlin's childish personality, he probably just liked the color.

"Are you really going to act as a servant?"

"I thought it'd be the nice thing to do since you're letting me stay here."

"Ah, so you do have some manners."

Arther felt a tug at his waistband and before he could see it, his pants were pulled to his ankles and trying to shimmy off his body. Arthur scrambled back, falling to the bed, and his pants tugged away and across the room into a basket. A new set of clothes danced before him and Arthur tussled with the sheets, tangling and lifting them to his body like protective armor. "Wha-what is happening?" He yelped at Merlin.

"Hm?" Merlin was looking out the window at something. His eyes seem to glow against the morning light and there was a flash of gold dancing down his spine. That was certainly not an after-effect of the natural sun. Arthur blinked a few times. Was he going mad? "Don't you want to get dressed?" Merlin glanced at Arthur's floating clothes, observing them for style rather for the fact that they were dancing unnaturally across the room.

"Why are you parading your magic? Are you insane?" Arthur tried to swat at the clothes, but they swat back and fought to get on his body.

"I _am_ magic. I can't stop existing. What other way is there to do it?"

Arthur's head burst from the shirt that forced its way onto his body, gasping for breath. "The _normal_ way?"

"What's the normal way?" Merlin asked. His eyes were wide and tone sincere.

Arthur hesitated. "Well you…pick up the shirt, and— put it on me." As he said this, a multitude of trays with food began flying through the window by Merlin. An array of cheese, meats, and bread spread themselves across the table in an endless buffet. Merlin even looked impressed at the display.

"And bringing food through the door is also a normal thing!"

"Oh, no one was looking," Merlin said carelessly. "You're not one of those princes that think maidens wake up to look up at your window, are you? Because I have some news for you." He picked up a grape from the table and nibbled on it. Arthur was tempted to smack it out of his hand.

Instead, he stomped towards Merlin, adjusting his pants as he hobbled across the room, and pointed at Merlin's face. "No. More. Magic."

"What if you aren't around? Come on, it's not like they can lock me up as a sword."

"This is Camelot. Sometimes consequences come at the expense of others, not just yourself." Arthur marched to his seat at the head of the table, unable to deny the rumbling in his stomach. He placed the meats and cheese on his plate and reached for a glass, before realizing it was already full of water.

Merlin's shoulders fell and he seemed to wither next to the table. "What does that mean?"

"It means, listen to me or leave," Arthur punctuated.

Merlin's face morphed to that of a wounded dog, and Arthur almost felt bad, but he spoke the truth. He grew up seeing all sorts of families split apart and people broken from simple accusations and a lot of ignorance. It wasn't that Arthur knew much about magic himself, or even had a great love of it, but he understood the simple practices of moral correctness and justice. When the judge was always biased and unwilling to hear all sides of a story, there wasn't much for either.

"Sorry," Merlin said. "I promised not to hurt anyone, and I won't. I'll try not to use magic outside this room."

Arthur wanted to urge him not to use it at all, but he supposed it was a start. And he couldn't remember the last time he had such a comfortable meal in his rooms. Arthur nodded.

Merlin hovered near the table, seemed lost in his own thoughts. Then he said, "I suppose it makes sense with such a ridiculous law," Merlin mumbled. "What does Camelot know of magic? Something a mortal can't do? If I jumped a bit too high, would that mean I'm using magic? If I could drink more rum than another man, would that mean I'm magic? It's amazing you have any decent people left when anyone jealous could just accuse another of witchcraft."

"Merlin."

"Yes?"

"Do shut up."

Merlin hummed, his lip twitching upwards and Arthur found his own doing about the same. Merlin sat in the chair next to Arthur, pulling food onto his own plate. He displayed more of his unbecoming table manners with grunts of appreciation for a slice of meat and occasional smacks of his lips when he ate a tart fruit. Arthur twisted in his seat and raised a brow. Merlin didn't seem to notice.

"What are you doing?" Arthur found himself asking this question often.

Merlin quirked his head and swallowed a slice of ham. "Eating."

"Next to your prince?" Arthur's brows were raised to his hairline at this point.

Merlin pursed his lips, waiting for Arthur to expand. When he didn't, Merlin slowly raised another grape to his mouth before chewing it with a smothered smile. Neither of them moved, except for the temple raising on Arthur's forehead.

Arthur stood from his seat and swiped the plate of food from Merlin, who yelled indignantly. He tipped Merlin's chair, who fell ungracefully to the floor.

Arthur made a "wait here" motion and went back to his seat to eat in peace.

"Really? Is that a law, too?"

"You're not of the station to be eating next to me," Arthur stated.

Merlin grumbled as he stood and brushed at his clothes. "They should call this place Shant-alot. Should I be worried of anything else, _sire?_"

Arthur maintained his straight face, a slight satisfaction of Merlin using proper titles for once, as he took considerable bites of his food. "What is your knowledge on polishing?"

—-

A large precession of horses with tall green banners floating behind trotted through the gates of Camelot under the sweltering sun. Arthur stopped the urge to wipe at the sweat building on his brow. There was a hot itch on the back of his neck as well and Arthur had the feeling it had nothing to do with the sun, and a low laugh built at his gut at the thought

Merlin occupied Camelot a mere week and it was honestly the most fun Arthur had in a while. There was something comical and pleasant about Merlin's company, no matter what Arthur threw at him. Arthur treated him as a real servant and gave him as many tasks as possible to fill his time. From polishing, cleaning the room, starting his bath, sharpening weapons, mending his clothes, and anything else he could think of. Of course there came the realization that Merlin couldn't always accomplish those tasks and would be caught turning back into a sword in the middle of a hall. Arthur made a small habit of wandering the grounds if Merlin took too long to come back from a task, so the knights didn't think Arthur was becoming a lazy slob tossing his swords about.

Arthur even tried to use Merlin as a sword during practice, which Merlin found no argument against. Arthur imagined becoming a weapon to be swung about would be annoying, especially with the retorts he gave Arthur about cleaning his room, but Merlin always seemed excited.

However after the first day, Arthur found it impossible to use Merlin because he kept imagining the shaggy, long-limbed, and perhaps mildly attractive man fitting perfectly into his hand. It created weird images that left Arthur wondering which parts of Merlin made up sections of the sword. Did he feel pain or nausea at being swung about? Could he feel _everything _where Arthur gripped him? What was Arthur gripping exactly?

He best not think about it.

The horses stopped at the palace steps and Arthur looked up at the pristine black velvet draping down the hind legs of a regal horse. The pointed chin and small tilt of a vainly polite smile was pointed at Arthur. Arthur bowed.

"King Cenred," Uther greeted with wide arms. Cenred followed gracefully by descending from the horse and grabbing Uther's hand in a stiff shake. "It's an honor to have you in Camelot."

"The honor is all mine," Cenred's voice oozed with slime. Something about him always set Arthur off. Royals of course had a stiff politeness to them, thinly veiled interest in any social interaction with other powerful lords, but there was something excessively fraudulent about Cenred. "The kingdom looks finer than ever. I see the eradication of magic has done you very well."

Uther's surprised grin was not fake in the slightest. "Is that approval? A hard change of heart from the rumors I've heard."

"It's why I am here. I hope to be thoroughly educated in a change of ways. Our kingdoms would do well to support each other in the future."

"I couldn't agree more."

Cenred turned his attention to Arthur, eyes glancing downward and back up. Arthur barely wrinkled his brow, a tad irritated, but was quick to clear it and offered his hand. "It's wonderful to meet you again, King Cenred."

"My, my, you have grown into quite a warrior! Uther, you are truly a majesty of son and kingdom."

"Trust me, his skill and prowess are his own. He's an even greater warrior than I ever was for Camelot."

Arthur almost turned his head, surprised, but breathed deeply, back expanding upwards. He had a feeling his father still buzzed with delight against the undead knight. He didn't know of Excalibur, or that it was the sword he held, and perhaps thought it was his skill that kept him alive. Arthur wasn't about to break such a notion too soon, especially with Merlin walking about.

"Yes, I heard recent rumors of his conquests. He's a well-decorated prince. Honor, talent, acquired treasures…"

Arthur stiffened, feeling a burning at his skull, not sure if Merlin was even watching them. "I do aim to earn the very best. It's why you'll never find a better army in the land or citizens."

"Undoubtedly," Cenred grinned. Uther pulled his attention away, patting his back and pulling him to close conversation up the steps. The party below the stairs scattered to store away trunks and horses, and Arthur stood there, watching the two kings walk away. He flexed his hand around his sword.

—-

"Arthur! Welcome back!" Merlin cheered.

Arthur almost jumped back then rolled his eyes. "I've told you, you shouldn't address me like that."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. _Prince _Arthur, it's wonderful to have your company again. I was fearful you'd never return."

"To my own chambers?"

"I thought you'd feel better if I sounded more desperate for your company."

"Shut up, Merlin."

Merlin grinned anyway. "So would you like to hear what I did today?" Merlin bounced close to him like a child, magic floating through and all around Arthur, pulling at his clothes and tugging at his hair.

"Honestly, as long as you didn't leave the rooms to cause trouble and practice magic—" he tried to sternly side-eye him but his cape tangled in his face as it floated away "—then it matters not what you did. And you don't have to review it to me all the time."

"But who else would I tell? It's not as if I get much titillating conversation from the curtains now do I?"

It was true that no one else could see Merlin, much to Arthur's relief. He turned back into Excalibur anytime mortal eyes saw him. Except Arthur. Arthur learned quite quickly that Merlin wasn't accustomed to much social interaction at all, which explained his poor manners. Though Arthur always found Merlin's company thoroughly more refreshing than any knight, servant, or any sort of person he'd ever met. And Arthur would be sure to never admit it.

"And that means? Are you calling me boring?"

"Well, not you specifically!" Merlin raised his hands in defense. "Just what you do all day. I've been here a week and you wake up, train, go to meetings, meet more royals, train some more. It's maddening actually."

"Those boring things are called responsibilities. I have a duty to my kingdom to be a well-trained warrior and to maintain peace. That includes meetings and talking to royals." Arthur sniffed. The magic clothes stopped moving and Arthur proceeded to relax at the table, waving at Merlin to proceed with his story. Merlin brightened up and Arthur fought the small twitch on his face.

"I talked to your Court Physician." Merlin beamed and Arthur froze. "He's very knowledgeable. A bit strict and sagely, but very interesting to talk to."

"Wait, just a moment ago you said I was the only one you could speak to! He can see you?"

"Of course," Merlin shrugged. "You knew he used to be a sorcerer right? He said as such. Part of the Old Religion before the Purge and all that."

Arthur blinked, falling back into his chair with a knot in his chest. "Right, he was," he recounted but leaned forward again. "So you do leave the chambers when I'm not around."

"Only for a little bit," Merlin rolled his eyes. His nonchalant attitude a little grating. "I stay out of sight most of the time."

"Well, why were you caught _this _time?"

"The old man fell from a ladder! I didn't want to watch him fall to his death. It was very lucky I was around at all."

"You used magic in front of him?"

"You rather he died?" Merlin gave a scrutinizing stare. "I have a feeling you're not a very popular prince."

"Merlin," Arthur emphasized, scooting forward in the chair. "He could report you. Ask after you. It could get to my father. It's honestly a miracle no one knows about you yet."

"I don't fear your kingdom. Besides I'm indestructible as a sword. I'm more likely to die of boredom."

"You're not indestructible as a human," Arthur pointed out.

"How would you know?" Merlin dismissed. "Anyway, I'm excited to talk to him more. He has a very interesting position."

"How much did you say to him?"

"I told him I was the personal servant of Prince Arthur. I think that's plausible enough."

"You told him a sorcerer was directly serving the prince? Are you mad?"

"Its not a lie. I said you're too stupid to realize my gifts. I was completely honest."

"Fine! You're a personal servant with magic and I have no idea! Gaius won't warn my father at all! It's completely normal!"

Apparently it was entirely normal. Gaius hadn't said a word, and it was dangerous for Arthur to say anything as well. He wasn't sure to feel betrayed that Gaius wasn't worried for the situation or that Gaius hadn't asked for the personal manservant no one else could see. All in all, no one seemed to care.

It was rather infuriating on Arthur's part as he felt egotistical to constantly wonder why no one was invested enough in his life to notice the strangeness of being so pampered in his rooms with an invisible manservant. Merlin was happy to brag that his ego wasn't imagined.

—

The duration of Cenred's stay was meant to be a long one. He wanted to tour the towns, the lands, meet the counsel and understand the traditions and celebrations within the kingdom. All sorts of invasive things. Of course Uther didn't find that invasive at all, being optimistic in the potential merger of their lands. Cenred had strongholds and borders that would be beneficial to Camelot, and strong rumors of harboring sorcerers that Uther was thirsty to eradicate.

Arthur didn't believe anything that came out of Cenred's mouth. Every compliment was too quick, his eyes too curious, and his questions very practiced. However he was under the protection of the king and Arthur had little involvement.

Arthur was much more concerned about Merlin.

Merlin was apparently too happy to continue trailing the kingdom in his spare time, and the more bold he became, the more trouble he caused.

On one day, Morgana had knocked on Arthur's door, came inside, and was dangling Excalibur from the rounded crest at the end of the handle. Gwen followed closely behind her. Arthur sat at his desk, writing letters to a neighboring kingdom, and screwed his face tight from surprise or alarm, wondering what mischief Merlin alerted himself to this time.

"I know you have a need to assert your…manhood, or whatnot, but please refrain from leaving your weapons unsheathed outside a lady's door?" Morgana thrust the sword forward, making it swing from her two fingers on it, as if it pained her.

Arthur sighed, scraping the chair as he stood, and carefully took it from her fingers. "What makes you think I need to assert anything with you? You hardly acknowledge men in general, no matter myself."

Morgana raised a brow. "Well, aren't you growing bright for once. Never thought anything was in there to notice."

Arthur glanced at Gwen, a small smile growing on his lips. "I notice a lot of things, Morgana. Certainly the fresh marks on Gwen's neck wouldn't get past the notice of anyone in Camelot."

Morgana did flush this time, blotching pink sprinkling across her chest and cheeks. "Is that why your sword was there? Spying on us and you dropped it?"

"What!" Arthur flushed "I would never! That's disgusting!"

"I wouldn't put it past you." She turned on her heel, head held high, and Gwen's tight-lipped, frantic face scurried with her past the door.

Arthur huffed and placed the sword on the table, waiting for Merlin to appear again. Merlin, for his benefit, did look a bit sheepish.

"Trying to make me out as the palace pervert?"

"I wasn't spying! I just happened to pass by and the women opened the door and—you know how it goes." Merlin's apologetic smile wasn't as obnoxious as Arthur expected it to be. "Plus, palace perverted prat prince has an interesting ring."

"Merlin—"

"Shut up?"

Arthur fought a twitch that certainly was not a smile.

Another time, Merlin's boldness saved Arthur's life. They had argued before Arthur went on a patrol with the knights about using Excalibur on a regular basis.

"Why would I need to?" Arthur asked.

"Practice, obviously. I'm a prized possession, you should be proud."

"An accomplished knight isn't defined by his weapon, but how he uses them. You're useful against magic, which I'm not fighting against."

"You're not?" Merlin asked. A whispered pause sat in the air, a double-edged question that Arthur felt he could never truly answer.

Arther chewed his food carefully. "I'm not actively fighting magic. It's usually bandits or fighting in tournaments."

"What if they're undead bandits? A tournament against unicorns?"

"I do sometimes wonder if you remember which kingdom you're in." Arthur said. "And unicorns are a myth."

"Come on, Arthur. You never know when something could go wrong. I'm just an extra precaution."

"You're staying here and that's the end of it."

Arthur wasn't sure why he was still so adamant against using Merlin. Perhaps there was something intimate about it. Maybe he was a bit worried about using a person as a weapon. Though isn't that what he did with his knights? They stood beside him but would fall in his place if the threat of death was imminent? He could argue it was the magic, the direct flow of feeling _Merlin _run through him, not just some legendary sword.

Arthur was overthinking.

Arthur and his knights traveled the nearby woods on their usual patrol, everything was quiet and peaceful. Then a beautiful young woman broke from a near brush, hair tangled in leaves and tears in her dress. She came up to their group, frantic in her long velvet robes and fine embroidery. She stumbled into Gwaine's horse and clutched around the reins so she wouldn't fall as it flinched back.

"Woah, there! Fair maiden!" Gwaine proclaimed, leaping from his horse and grabbing her arms. Their group stared at each other, a little roll of their eyes as of course Gwaine was the first to leap to the beautiful woman. "What's the matter? We can help."

The woman stared at Gwaine, relaxing in his arms and sighing. "Thank goodness. Aren't you a Knight of Camelot?"

Gwaine gave a lavish smile. "Yes, we are. What ails you?"

"My name is Lady Helen of Mora. I was to meet with Prince Arthur of Camelot but there was an ambush of my camp…my people…" Tears shone in the corners of her eyes and she looked ready to fall to her knees. Gwaine held her up.

"It's alright. We have you now. Tell us more as we take you to the kingdom. As it happens, Prince Arthur is here with us."

Arthur watched from his horse and kicked forward until he was a reasonable distance from the lady. She was lovely, as a royal should be, and he wished to reassure her. "It's wonderful to meet you Lady Helen, though not under the best of circumstances. Half my men will go to your camp and help in anyway way they can. I'll escort you back."

The woman stared at Arthur, praise in her eyes, until she said the words, "No, no, this is most fortuitous. I didn't think it would be this easy."

Arthur crinkled his brows and suddenly a sweet sound filled the air and his head was dizzy. Thuds fell around him as his men fell from their horses. Arthur felt himself falling forward as well and a silver glint shone against the rays coming through the trees. A sharp blade with an unusual hilt. The woman's face shifted from beauty to disfigurement, an older woman with white hair and lumpy skin stared at Arthur.

"The son of the man who executed my boy. My boy who merely made flowers dance and fires stay lit. I will take from Uther what he has taken from me."

Arthur tried to lift his hand, but he could not focus on any of his limbs. His mind was sluggish, there was hardly any panic to his mind. He had to stop her, though the reasoning was slow to hit him. Then something bright broke through the haze and the woman yelled indignantly. A sharp ring came from his left and a familiar hilt slid into his palm. The weight of the sword was incredibly heavy one moment, until a warmth and bright light glided across his skin. The woman seemed to shout off key, the sound weighing on his muscles gliding away. Arthur's strength returned with a snap and he retaliated with the one moment he had.

Arthur was laying on the ground and shoved himself upwards to find the woman. He grit his teeth, finding himself no choice but to defend himself and his men, and stumbled to stand. The sword in his hand felt warm, like sparks on an open fire igniting his will. Arthur yelled, the sword growing bright again, and he pierced straight through the woman. She didn't stand long and crumpled with the leaves scattered across the floor. Arthur was panting and fell to his knees when it was done.

He stared at nothing, surprised and lost as he was.

"Hah! I knew it! I knew you would need me! What do you have to sa— Arthur?" Merlin was standing above him, but quickly crouched and hands were grabbing Arthur's face to look up. "Arthur! Are you alright?"

His eyes looked that especially bright golden color again. When it faded, the blue behind them was just as brilliant. Concerned, almost. Such an image could break Arthur.

"You…"

"What?" Merlin asked urgently, eyes dashing across Arthur's face.

"You saved me. You—came to my hand and saved me." Arthur couldn't imagine the sort of face he was making, but he was short of breath and the nearness of Merlin's hands on his face wasn't particularly helping.

"Did I?" Merlin looked surprised, but also relieved. A soft feeling ran across Arthur's chest.

"Brilliant," Arthur breathed until it transformed into an awed laugh which escalated to a hoot towards the sky. "You're brilliant, Merlin." He gasped into a loud laugh and hooted into the sky. He shook his head, finally freeing himself of Merlin's grip, and flopped to the ground.

"Is this your form of thanking me?" Merlin's concern fell to fond teasing and it was so comfortable it made Arthur's heart ache.

"Don't get such a big head, now," Arthur shuffled to sit up. "I did make the final blow in the end."

Merlin pursed his lips. "It really would kill you to be nice for once, wouldn't it?"

"Never heard the word in my life, I'm afraid." Arthur raised his brow. Birds whistling and wind against leaves passed between them until Merlin cracked a smile and Arthur followed suit. "You…did do well today. I was lucky. To have a stubborn sword like you."

The edges of Merlin's eyes ran soft. He crouched before Arthur, eyes steady and head tilted downward. Arthur looked up and Merlin's eyes are entrancing and shining and something sticks him to the spot, unable to look anywhere else.

"Everything I am, right now, is for you Arthur." Merlin's words were solemn like gravel, but as sincere as bright light. "I am yours to use, however you wish."

"That's—" Arthur tried hard to shake away the rapid hammers in his chest. "You're a rather loyal sword, aren't you?"

Merlin's smile shined even brighter than the glow which saved his life.

—-

Something changed in Arthur, he could tell. It wasn't just the new abundance of time Arthur used Excalibur now, or the amount of conversations Arthur now instigated with Merlin, or even the amount of times he found his eyes trailing Merlin for no other reason but to admire him. He just felt different. Lighter, more confident, more… Just _more. _

Arthur had asked if Excalibur had special effects besides being magical, and Merlin admitted his magic made Arthur a bit faster and sure of himself, but skill and movement came down to the wielder. Excalibur's power was partly an illusion that stemmed from their natural abilities. It was terribly vague but Merlin admitted there were a lot of vague things about his existence.

This emboldened Arthur to ask all sorts of questions about Merlin. He asked about family, which Merlin wasn't sure he had. He asked about age, which Arthur definitely didn't believe when he was told because Merlin acted five at the best of times. He asked about many inconsequential things such as favorite food, animals, or even the weather. Anything Merlin gave to Arthur, he engraved into his memory like a thirst.

"I've just noticed the engraving on your hilt," Arthur asked one day. He doesn't know why he never noticed before. Perhaps because he never intended to make Excalibur a royal weapon, it was not to be admired and studied like his other weapons, but Arthur slowly felt he could have no other. "It's my crest, isn't it? Is it because you're pledged to me? Does it always change?"

Merlin's laugh was low, and if Arthur didn't know any better, hesitant. "I didn't think you could handle asking so many questions at once."

Arthur threw a piece of bread his was nibbling on from his desk and Merlin dodged, smiling as he did. Arthur waited, and Merlin was slow to respond.

"It's, um, always been there. From the day I woke up."

Arthur paused, too many questions stemming from the short answer. He settled on, "What do you mean woke up?"

Merlin licked his lips. "Well, when a person swings a magical sword like a troll with a club, sometimes that consciousness can fall into a sort of coma—" Arthur pursed his lips and raised a brow in response. "Then suddenly he wakes up later in the hands of a prat prince with bad form."

"Like a _troll_?" Arthur scrunched his face.

"You've gotten much better since the first day," Merlin shrugged. "I didn't want to mention it too soon—"

"You always have something smart to say about everything, don't you, _Mer_lin?"

"Seeing as I'm smarter than you, that shouldn't be a surprise."

Arthur scoffed into a laugh. "Shouldn't you be more respectful? I am able to lift you after all," Arthur stated implicitly, like it meant something. Merlin just stared at him like a dunce. "Only worthy warriors can lift Excalibur? You accepted me."

Merlin blinked wide, understanding coming back to him. "Ah, right. The rumors—wait, I mean," he stuttered when he caught Arthur's expression. "Yes, the _legend_," he saved implicitly.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at Merlin. "And now that I remember it, Father was able to lift you as well."

Merlin's features darkened a bit. "I did say that was an exception."

"And how does that work exactly?"

"Well… you know, magic stuff. Very mystical, and complicated."

"I heard there were knights from across the land who all suffered different effects from trying to take you. Burning of the handle, tossed a hundred feet into the air, or even struck by lightning?"

"Wow. Mortals have fantastic imaginations." Merlin looked impressed.

"There is no legend, is there."

Merlin stumbled his reply. "What. Don't be ridiculous. Of course there is. I'm a very particular sword—"

"So there really were people who couldn't wield you?"

"Correct." Merlin nodded. Arthur stared hard enough to make him squirm. "I...might have more control over the situation than the— _legends_ let on. It gets terribly annoying when a stray bandit just picks up the most powerful sword a mortal could ever dream, and just pawns it off or abuses it through thievery. I have standards."

"Merlin with standards. I didn't think that was possible."

Merlin sent a simpering glance. "You could be grateful for once. Not a single thank you since I've arrived here. If your other swords could talk, they'd— "

"Still talk much less than you." Arthur smothered a smile. "So, basically, your loyalty and choice to stay in Camelot was because you liked me?"

Merlin's face blotched an attractive pink. "I dread the day someone comes to like you. Your head wouldn't fit past the door."

"Then why was I the exception?" Arthur couldn't pass the chance to tease this out of Merlin. He was a tad surprised when Merlin answered with solemn sincerity.

"You're a good person. I could tell immediately. "

Arthur fully smiled.

"Stop staring at me with those smug eyes, it makes it impossible to look at you."

"You save my life and pledge loyalty as a servant, I think looking at me is a lesser favor."

Merlin pouted and remained quiet. Arthur was content not to push much farther.

—-

Arthur rarely joined dinner with Cenred or Uther, overly content with spending most of his time with Merlin. However, a banquet was called in celebration of the two men forming some agreement behind closed doors and Arthur was forced to attend. Arthur didn't know the details, but the sparkling joy on his father's face was unmistakable. Royals and high-class citizens were brought to attendance, along with some of Arthur's closest knights, finding fascination with Uther's and Cenred's talks, thinking it a making of history.

Arthur brought Merlin with him, sheathed in leather at his hip, because it felt more formal and correct. No one ever recognized Excalibur as the legendary sword, nor the sword Uther used in battle some weeks ago, so it felt natural that Arthur was allowed to carry the sword he felt most comfortable to own.

The room was set up lavishly with the long tables aligned to form a large 'U' and the center was opened for entertainment. Arthur took up a glass of wine and hung around the edges of the room, in no greater mood to converse. Morgana was kind enough to give a haughty glare from across the room, which Arthur smiled brightly in return. Gaius passed him and looked around for someone, and Arthur remembered how much time he spends with Merlin during the day. What sort of conversations they must have was beyond him, and Arthur doesn't try to ask.

Cenred walked up to Arthur halfway through the evening, the unnerving aura he wore like a cape still pungent in the air.

"How are you, Arthur?" Cenred asked. "I haven't seen much of you the past few weeks. You always seem to be locked in your rooms."

"Camelot has been very busy recently. Harvest, festivals, on top of my usual duties. I'm sorry I haven't been more attentive on your visit."

"Not at all, your father has been most accommodating." Cenred faked a smile, though it looked insidious more than anything. "There is one thing I have wished to discuss with you, however."

Arthur blinks, surprised, and turns his body accordingly to show his full attention. Cenred's eyes drag along Arthur's body as they had the first day they met, something that was still irritating, but they stopped at his hip. His eyes glittered in delight and he reached forward. Arthur jerked back in reflex, holding the sheath tighter to his hip. Cenred looked up sharply. Arther felt himself stammer a moment to explain himself, but Cenred was already smiling and opening his mouth.

"Merlin, was it?"

Arthur froze, but maintained the neutral muscles on his face. "Sorry?"

"I never met him myself, of course, my sorcerers described him to me. I'd truly love to wish to hold him again. There's nothing like Excalibur on the entire planet. He slipped out of my fingers at an inopportune time."

Arthurs fingers flexed and bile sat at his throat at the idea of Cenred placing any of his slimy fingers on Merlin. "You know Excalibur, then?"

"Once upon a time, we were quite a pair."

If that sentence alone didn't make Arthur sick to his stomach, allowing Cenred the fantasy of repeating the past was out of the question. "I'm not sure about this— 'Merlin', but indeed Excalibur is a wonderful sword. One I do not plan on losing anytime soon."

Cenred looked excited at the words. "And your father, he approves of this sword?"

Arthur flexed his jaw. "Why should he not?" He feigned ignorance.

Cenred's grin seemed a tad more sincere this time. "It was a pleasure speaking to you, Arthur. I hope we'll continue this talk soon."

Arthur couldn't stay at the banquet after that, but he had to. Any added suspicious to his wariness of Cenred would cause questions from his father, and he wasn't sure what Cenred would say. Arthur was too foolish, too bold, too comfortable.

When he was in the safety of his rooms later that night, Merlin's eyes were just as frantic and wary as Arthur imagined his own to be. He kept fidgeting with his fingers and couldn't sit still for a moment.

"Why didn't you say you knew Cenred?" Arthur asked.

"I didn't know he was _here._ No one ever mentioned he was the neighboring royal waltzing the grounds. And by no one, I mean you or Gaius. I don't get out _that _much as you know."

"But can't you…see and hear when you're Excalibur?"

"Stop separating me from my other form," Merlin whispered in a strangled tone. "I am Excalibur. Everything I've ever done, everything I am—"

"Merlin." Arthur walked up to him and held his shoulders. Merlin's eyes wavered and were slightly dazed, as if too far for Arthur to reach. Arthur's thumbs moved in small circles to calm him down.

"I can only see and hear as far as my wielder. It's…nothing otherwise. It's hard to explain." Merlin shook his head and stared at the ground. "This was the first time you've been next to him and I was there."

Arthur blinked several times, his chest constricting at the thought of Merlin seeing nothing for long periods of time. How alone he must have been for so long.

"How did you meet Cenred? Is he a sorcerer?"

"No, no…he just… found me. Many years ago, one of my first holders. You know Cenred's kingdom allows sorcerers, so on very rare occasions they saw me. Learned my name. Ironically, they were the only way I was able to escape him. He never let me out of his sight, and even when he slept, there were too many guards for me to leave. I was lucky, I think, to be rid of him. I think after all the rumors I spread, it's made him more mad."

Arthur didn't like the sound of that. "What rumors?"

"Remember when you asked about my legends?"

"That I had to be declared worthy?"

"There's more to it, depending on who tells the tale. You have to be worthy of the kingdom to wield me. Worthy like a rightful king."

"Oh, Merlin," Arthur groaned.

"Cenred might think since he was the first to find me, he's the rightful heir to the land. I wouldn't be surprised if he's here to prove it and wants to conquer Camelot."

Arthur couldn't prove whether Merlin was entirely correct, but nothing he mentioned felt wrong. Arthur didn't like Cenred since he entered the kingdom and his willingness to accept the traditions of Camelot, no magic and all, was as suspicious as the chin on his face.

"So…he's not here for peace negotiations. He has some bigger scheme and he's deceiving my father to believe he'll merge their kingdoms but he's likely to invade Camelot," Arthur assessed slowly. "But my father won't believe me if I tell him this. I can't risk exposing you either."

"Arthur, don't worry about me. Your kingdom is at stake."

"You're part of my kingdom now. A…very important part." Arthur's hands slid down Merlin's arm, a spark sizzling on his finger tips before he backed away. "We have to take all the precautions we can."

"Y-yes, uh, right," Merlin responded, pacing around the room but looking less fidgety than before. "What do you suggest?"

They decided to continue their usual routine but kept their ears open. Arthur used Merlin less in practice to allow him to walk the palace and find what he could about Cenred's stay. Who he spoke to, the agreements going on with the king, anything useful. In that time, Arthur took precautions of his own to help Merlin. The thought of Cenred entering his rooms at night and swiping Merlin from his fingers coiled ink into his lungs. Arthur wanted to protect Merlin, to give him an opportunity for a good life in Camelot. He didn't deserve Cenred's self-satisfactory treatment. Merlin was more than a weapon.

It took three days to complete, a royal request, and Arthur admitted it was garish but it was fitting. Arthur presented it to Merlin the same day.

Merlin's eyes sparkled at the bright, heavy scabbard and he weighed it carefully in his hands. "What's this?"

Arthur suddenly felt really nervous. "It's for you. Well, it's yours. Or rather—I was hoping you could enchant this as a precaution. So whenever I sheath you, only I can pull you out. So Cenred won't steal you in the middle of the night." Arthur shook his head. "Explaining it feels ridiculous, but it was the only thing I could—"

"Yeah," Merlin cut him off, sounding breathless. "Yes! It's wonderful. Brilliant!" Merlin's smile was stunning and it unwound any nervousness in Arthur's shoulders.

"G-good," Arthur cleared his throat. "I hope this clears some of our problems."

Merlin stroked the edges of the scabbard, eyes sparkling. "It's beautiful."

"Well, it is hard meeting the aesthetic standards of a magical sword, but we mortals try."

"I'm not… worthy of this." Merlin gave a harsh chuckle.

Arthur could see the weight of those words in the lines of his mouth and droop in his shoulders. The edges of his eyes seemed to bend in shame and Arthur couldn't bear to see it. "I don't know your past, Merlin," Arthur started. "But no man isn't worthy of redemption. I believe in that. More than anything."

"But I'm no man," Merlin shook his head, a crack burrowed on each word.

"You are to me. One of the best I've ever met."

Merlin didn't seem to take his words to heart, but his small smile displayed hope that he would take them one day.

Then that doubt seeped deeper into Merlin.

The scabbard helped calm them both as they tried to figure out Cenred's plans in the next few days. Arthur even teased Merlin's admiration of it in their spare time.

"Did you do something to this?" Arthur asked, pointing to the scabbard.

"What do you mean?" Merlin dodged, studying a big book he borrowed from Gaius recently.

"The sheath looks different. Shinier, maybe?" Then a small grin formed on his face. "Are you polishing it ever night in pride?"

"Don't be ridiculous, you big-headed prat."

"Admit it. You love it." He swung the scabbard a bit, still too intensely fascinated by it. "It feels lighter too?"

"Alright! You have meetings to attend today. Let's focus on those?"

However, even those small moments couldn't overshadow Merlin's past. Arthur still wore Excalibur proudly when he could, sheathed in the new scabbard. His father was never the least bit interested, only singing praises for the future of Camelot and Cenred himself. Cenred seemed to notice Arthur wherever he was, eyeing Excalibur at his hip. Arthur tried not to glare back and flex his hand around the hilt, but tried to be nonchalant. He didn't want to goad Cenred to believe Arthur was wary of him.

Arthur walked down the main steps of the palace towards the horses, about to go hunting with the knights, when Cenred fell into pace next to him. A small nod of acknowledgment fell between them before Cenred went on talking.

"What a hypocritical piece of creation," Cenred started. Arthur didn't change face or slow down. "How much have you talked to Merlin, hm? A creature killing his own kind for decades somehow ends up reaping the rewards in such a thriving kingdom? He must be very interesting."

Arthur reached his horse and pulled at the straps on the saddle to feign his irritation.

"Do you think that's what it takes to be worthy? The very thing killing off its own kind then living peacefully in the most anti-magical kingdom in the world? How fitting." Cenred echoed a chuckle and Arthur jutted out his chin to play off a sneer.

"Excalibur is nothing but a weapon of war. Heed my words, Arthur, nothing good ever comes of owning it." Cenred straightened and turned his heel back up the steps of the palace. Arthur didn't think much of it, just a childish ploy of words by a desperate man, but it meant a lot more to Merlin.

They returned midday to their rooms, and Merlin was pale and shaking where he stood. It alarmed Arthur who ran forward, thinking he would collapse.

"Merlin. Merlin. Look at me," Arthur urged.

"I can't. I don't want this, I never wanted this." Merlin's voice wavered like something was throttling his breathing, clogging it up into a terrible lump. "Cenred is right, I'm nothing but a monster. This is a punishment—"

"Punishment for what, Merlin? You couldn't kill a rabbit on your own."

"I have no memories, no friends or family to claim me. What am I but my actions? And my actions are… terrible."

"You're more. So much more than that—" Arthur clutched at Merlin's arms, tugging him close.

"You have _no idea _who I am. _I _don't know who I am. I was born in the Lake of Avalon. It spoke to me when I awoke and called my name Excalibur. Merlin is only the name given to me by the Lady of the Lake. I don't know who I am, no one does." Merlin's eyes shone, his voice shook, and he crumpled into Arthur's arms. His hands fisted tightly in the red cape clasped at Arthur's neck. "Only the lives I killed, the lives I took when I allowed men to handle me carelessly. And I'll never be free of that."

"You think you were cursed?" Arthur whispered near his hair. He never held Merlin so close. To smell the sweet earth on his skin or the sharpness of his elbows against his chest. It shouldn't have been like this, he thought bitterly. Arthur's first time holding him shouldn't be when he was suffering.

"What else can it be?" Merlin's voice was weak and flat. Resigned. He unfastened the tight grip on Arthur's cape and steadied himself to stand taller. Arthur was slower to let him go. "I need to leave."

Arthur's mind scrambled to a halt. His mouth fell open and he squinted at Merlin, thinking it was a joke. But Merlin wasn't smiling back. "What?"

"I don't want to stay here anymore."

Arthur found it hard to breathe. "Where are you going? You're coming back, aren't you?"

Merlin paused. "Why would I? I was meant to go back to where I came from right? If I did that originally, Cenred wouldn't have come here."

"Cenred will still hunt you—"

"And I'll continue to avoid him. Avoid everyone. He's right about me Arthur, I'll cause problems for Camelot. Start wars. Hurt your people."

"I thought you were here to serve me." Arthur was desperate, he didn't want Merlin to go. A life without Merlin… He didn't want to imagine it. "You said you were mine. So why are you running?"

"No, you don't— own me. I'm stuck to you, I'm forced into this life. I stayed because I thought you would cure me, but apparently, I made the wrong choice."

Arthur moved away like he was struck and shook his head. "You're pushing me away. You're lying—"

"Why would I lie?"

"Because you're scared! But you're no coward, Merlin!"

"I'm not—I'm _can't_—"

Arthur's veins burned and his mind was a frantic jumble of so many thoughts and questions. He knew Merlin was lying, knew Merlin was haunted by something Arthur couldn't slay, and it made him feel helpless. But most of all, he was also a hypocrite. Merlin was so afraid he wanted to leave and told a lie. Arthur was so afraid of him leaving, he couldn't say what he wanted the most. Instead, he acted on his fear. In one quick movement, he felt the warm mouth that tasted of salt and wheat and caressed softer than silk against his own lips.

Merlin squeaked at first, his mouth awkward and slow against Arthur's urgent attack, but he didn't push away and his body melted as close as was possible. Arthur gasped, pushing harder at each kiss, slipping his tongue farther in hungry laps. With each moment he thought that this wasn't fair, that this wasn't the moment he was supposed to finally admit how much Merlin truly meant to him. But it was all he had to keep Merlin there.

Arthur walked them backwards, guiding towards the bed, and Merlin keened, tugging at the armor separating them. One moment he tugged at Arthur's hair and the next his armor was gone. Arthur blinked and stumbled, but Merlin wasn't stopping. There was a lot of touching—sinfully delicious touching—groping, hips clicking together, mouths sucking every available surface, and before they knew it, all the clothes were gone.

Arthur couldn't say where they went, Merlin had a talent for moving everything within ten feet, but Arthur also couldn't pay attention to much of anything when Merlin was naked beneath him. Everything about him was beautiful, and Arthur never forgot seeing Merlin naked the first day they met, but he was undeniably bewitching below him. There was little hair between his legs, and everything about him was milky white and well-toned. His eyes were glowing golden and Arthur could see a slight reflection behind his back.

Arthur urged him to flip over and he sucked in a breath. Runes, glowing bright along his spine, were a direct reflection of the runes on Excalibur. The tips of his fingers played on each one, wondering if they were raised, but he met flat flesh and a warm glow. Merlin quivered below him but didn't move beyond that.

This was all of Merlin, completely exposed on Arthur's bed and glowing with power just beneath the skin. Arthur titled forward and kissed the top of his spine and Merlin gasped.

"I'm sorry, Merlin."

"What for?" Merlin whispered. Arthur kissed the same spot several times more, memorizing it and enjoying the low moans Merlin gave in return. Then he clutched Merlin's waist, feeling the skin in his hand, the weight of the flesh.

He breathed once and called, "Guards!"

—-

It was definitely awkward to be found completely naked, alone in his room, with only his trusted sword beneath him in bed, but luckily as the prince, he could command them never spoke of it again. Arthur didn't want Merlin to leave, but he also didn't want Merlin to suffer for the sake of staying. He made up his mind and sheathed Excalibur as he sent for a servant to send it off to Gaius with a note. Arthur wasn't sure how much Gaius knew of Merlin, truly, but they were friends which means he wouldn't leave him in harm's way as Arthur was gone.

Arthur eventually found his armor, perfectly aligned inside his closet at the other end of the room, and redressed for his journey. He took out a pack and brought the bare essentials, unsure what he would face.

As Arthur was walking down the hall to the staircase he came across Morgana who looked a bit harried and frantic.

"Where's Merlin?" she asked, and Arthur immediately stepped back.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh please, I've known about him all month."

"Wait, what—!"

"I wasn't supposed to say anything because of Cenred, which I've had horrid dreams about. Merlin thought finding out your dear sister was a witch would be too much stress, but now you're putting yourself in danger without him and that's a perfect time to interfere if you ask me."

"Wha—how could—you're a—?" Arthur found himself completely out of breath and without words. He didn't know which was worse, that Morgana was a literal witch beyond a figurative one and could throw him out a window for one poor word choice, or that she's good friends with _Mer_lin.

"Oh great, you're broken."

"You've been friends for _a month?_"

"Good friends. So good that I'd worry that his boyfriend is sending himself off on a dangerous quest alone."

Arthur's throat constricts. "I wouldn't say we're—"

"_Where's Merlin?"_ Morgana added an authoritative tone she long learned from Uther and Arthur sighed.

"I left him with Gaius until I'm far enough where he can't follow."

"And why, dare say, can't he follow you? He'd follow you til the end of the earth as far as I'm concerned."

The statement eased a weight on his heart. "Because I need to do this for him. I think he's scared, he wanted to leave Camelot, and I need to be the one to protect him this time."

Morgana's shoulders relaxed and she looked sideways with a nod. "I see." She seemed to look towards something far away and Arthur held his breath. He didn't need Morgana's permission, but she was one hell of a force to run through when she wanted to be. "Alright, I'll make sure he's here when you return."

Arthur gave Morgana the brightest smile they'd probably ever share in their life. "I'll return soon."

"You better."

—-

Arthur left Camelot on a horse late in the day, with orange sunlight kissing the ground and a now unfamiliar sword at his hip. He wasn't sure where he had to go, but he knew he had to arrive. There were many things about Merlin that were a mystery to him, and most of the time he assumed it was his charm. However, if today proved anything, Merlin was scared of what he was, dreaded it every moment someone held him. Arthur didn't want that life for him.

He wanted to keep Merlin, to love him and shower him for the rest of his life under a flourishing Camelot. He needed to find answers where he couldn't do it alone.

Arthur started at the Lake of Avalon, as Merlin called it. The place Arthur first found the sword.

Arthur wasn't sure what to expect. There was no indication of a village currently near the lake. There were signs of broken down homes and pots left years ago as everyone fled. Perhaps he hoped to be lucky and come across a magic peddler with old tales of Excalibur and its origin. He supposed that would be too easy.

Arthur stood at the edge of the lake, looking at the faraway mountains, and he heard nothing but birds crashing into leaves and sloshing waves. He was desperate and began to shout, "I am a friend of Merlin! The current wielder of Excalibur! I have questions, can someone assist me?"

Of course he felt absolutely ridiculous in his efforts, but what else was there to do? He wished he was like Merlin and could stare at something and will it to respond. Arthur kicked at the ground and settled himself to wait on a rock until morning. It was already growing dark and there was nowhere else to go or ask. Every hour or so, he yelled at the lake the same request and no response came. He waited longer.

Arthur remembered Gaius said the lake was only useful to creatures of the old religion or magic users. Mortals couldn't see what Merlin saw, the life that thrived under the lake's surface, so maybe it was a lost cause. But against all odds, Arthur could view Merlin, the greatest gift in his life.

He would wait for as long as it took.

Arthur fed the horse, tying him tight behind a knit of trees, and tucked himself in blankets from his pack on a makeshift bed of leaves. After what felt like a minute, something brighter hit his eyes and a wet draft drifted from the lake. Sprinkles of water danced on his face and Arthur blinked at something rising from the waters.

A lean woman, covered in underwater weeds and strange beadings, was walking to the shore. Her hair was long, wet, and dark as the night, but she glowed nonetheless. Arthur was slow getting to his feet, not wanting to intimidate her. She looked calmly down at him, and gestured with open arms.

"Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther, prince of Camelot," her voice whispered around the glade.

"You are…?" Arthur asked.

"Freya. The Lady of the Lake." She smiled. "How is Merlin?"

"In one word?" Arthur tried to laugh. "I came here for him. To find answers."

"What answers may those be?"

"His past. He seems to think his existence is a punishment and I want to ease his mind."

"His existence _is _a punishment," Freya said sadly and Arthur's heart jammed his throat. "But it is not his punishment. It is mine."

"What do you mean?"

"The answers you seek are contained in the crystal caves. A dangerous place, impossible for mortals with impure deeds to navigate, but it will break the seal placed over Merlin's mind."

"So his memories were taken to these caves?"

Freya nodded. "You may retrieve them, if you must."

"Will it help him?" Arthur can't help but ask.

"It is not knowledge of the past that heals wounds, Arthur Pendragon. It is the willingness to change the present despite them."

—-

Arthur returned from the caves two days after his departure. Describing his journey to the caves would be like describing a passing dream from a fortnight ago. It was fleeting and strange and made no sense at all beyond the beauty of clear crystals. He might have encountered creatures, it might have been an illusion, all Arthur could say was he made it home. Arthur took a near hour to take a piece of crystal from the cave and hoped it would be enough to help Merlin.

It was mid-day and Arthur snuck through the castle, mud caking in his clothes and boots, and weird liquid that dripped from his head and dried like dung. How he wished to demand Merlin to immediately make him a bath.

Of course he entered his rooms and the first thing he received was an armful of Merlin, his hands clutching the back of his filthy shirt and the wonderful scent of his oils emanating the air. Arthur's mouth twitched and he indulged for a moment by tucking his nose into Merlin's neck and wrapping his arms around him.

"I thought you were forced to be near me?" Arthur chuckled.

Merlin pulled back, hands steady on Arthur's shoulders, and eyes shining. "I shouldn't have said that! I never would've meant that in a million years! Arthur. Arthur."

Hearing Merlin chant his name like a heavenly psalm was rather pleasurable but Arthur was still on the verge of collapse and waved his hand as he broke away. "As you can see, Merlin, I'm filthy and ready for a bath. You can praise me during that time."

Merlin gave a wide smile. "Yes, sire."

Apparently all Merlin had to do was hold the crystal in his hand before his memories were returned to him. Arthur couldn't see anything in the clear rock, but Merlin insisted his whole life was reflecting back at him. Merlin was happy to relay everything to him.

He was a simple village boy named Merlin, who was already born with too much power and to a great lineage. His father had worked in Camelot almost fifty years ago but lived half of his life in the village of Ealdor. His father told Merlin stories of the dragons and the old religion, but this was before the purge, when everything went wrong. Merlin's life was hard until he met a wonderful woman named Freya. She was a druid and very kind, one of Merlin's closest companions. But there was something strange about her.

Apparently, she had a curse of her own; to kill forevermore by becoming a beast of the night. Merlin vowed to break her from the curse, especially when she became injured from Merlin's own village and sent off alone with a deep wound in her side. He pleaded to the gates of Avalon, creatures of old at the lake, to save her. They were the only ones with powers great enough. They abided the plea. Freya would lose her curse, only if Merlin would take it in her stead.

Merlin accepted without hesitation.

Merlin was then cursed to transform into a weapon that could kill forevermore, and anyone. Magical or mortal.

It was the greatest curse on Merlin, who was magic itself and didn't believe in war of any kind.

"Were you—well, are you…" Arthur stumbled after Merlin was done.

"Yes? Are you actually tongue-tied, sire?" Merlin tried not to laugh.

"Did you love her?"

Merlins took his time to consider. "I think I thought I was. But it was more of a deep affection. She was a good friend to me, I wanted to protect her."

Arthur's shoulders unwound. "Really."

"Arthur… Arthur you don't know how long I've been lost. What it feels like to not know your purpose, who you are—"

"But I know exactly who you are," Arthur asserted. "I've known since the moment I met you and became more sure of it every day."

Merlin's eyes shone.

"You're mine."

Merlin smiled, scoffing into a short laugh. "How do you know I'd still want to stick around with such an egotistical prince?"

"Because I'm yours, too. You don't really have an option."

The slow movement of Merlin's lips latching to his and the fingers tickling along his neck were nothing short of perfect for the next hour.

—-

Arthur barely had a full day of peace, eager to revisit the activities cut short with Merlin prior to rushing off, before the threat of Cenred was brought back to attention. Gaius and Morgana ushered Arther down to the Physician's rooms after he was cleaned up to report back on the last few days.

"Your father has acted quite unusual recently," Gaius started.

"Unusual how?"

Morgana added, "He went to the counsel and publically tore up his law on magic."

Arthur did a double take. "_My_ father?"

"He also announced adding sorcerers to the staff to replenish what he destroyed," Morgana continued.

"_My_ _father_?" Arthur had to say it twice.

"We're positive it's Cenred's influence. I've had a feeling about his staff since he's been here. I think they've been using magic on Uther's mind to influence these peace talks. Cenred has been here so long it wouldn't look too suspicious but we all know in a million years he wouldn't say these things."

"Why is he being so bold?" Arthur whispered, though he already knew the answer. Arthur remembered Merlin saying his magic gave the illusion of confidence and invulnerability. Cenred had Merlin for so long, he really might have gone mad thinking he'd be unstoppable now. "I'll stop him."

"Alone?" Morgana raised her brow. "Arthur with the official decree of magic being lawful, it's not like we can expose him and be done with it. Plus he is still a king."

They all agreed it would be difficult to expose Cenred and went back to their chambers to discuss another day before things became worse. Arthur entered his rooms, head full, and Merlin's magic floated around his shoulders like a familiar breeze. He smiled and found Merlin already buried in Arthur's blanket.

"Who said you could sleep next to your prince?" Arthur teased.

"I've slept here every day until you returned," Merlin mumbled beneath the blankets, his black mop of hair barely peaking above thick cotton sheets. "Since you kissed me and ditched me, you cock tease."

Arthur flushed to the roots of his hair and slapped a hand over his face. "Merlin!"

"Is that not what you did?" He heard the smile in the tone.

"Please stop talking." Arthur dipped low into the bed, taking the deep kiss he longed to taste since he left. Merlin tasted even sweeter than the first time, and more placid. Arthur took his time, leaning his body flat on top of the blankets and Merlin shuddered. Arthur wanted to devour him on the spot.

"Cenred never placed his slimy paws on you, did he?" Arthur gasped around a kiss.

"No," Merlin brought his hands higher to run through Arthur's hair. "Morgana and Gaius have been very vigilant about him staying away from your rooms. Your palace knights are much less reliable than Gwaine and everyone."

"Why did you only name Gwaine?" Arthur stopped a kiss and pinched his lips.

"It was the first name that popped up! It doesn't mean anything."

"That you know of."

"You're terribly jealous of everything," Merlin tilted his head, but was kind enough to place a sweet kiss on his head. "Though I like that about you."

Arthur hummed and caught Merlin's hand from his hair. He placed two distinct kisses on his wrist and palm. "We need to rid of Cenred."

"Kill him?"

"Killing a royal while on peaceful grounds would result in war, Merlin." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"So we're killing him outside of Camleot?"

Arthur stared back inanely. "Why are you so sure we're killing anyone?"

"Side effect of being a weapon for fifty years? Sorry."

A blossom of tender fondness was ready to smother Arthur and he settled with holding Merlin's hand tightly instead of ravishing him as he wanted.

"Can't you be serious for a moment?"

"Sorry," Merlin's eyes crinkled at the edges. "I just feel...different after getting my memories back. Getting _you_ back. I haven't felt this happy in a long time."

Arthur knew he lost after that declaration, knowing he was correlated to Merlin's happiness. He leaned forward again until the front doors burst open to his room. Arthur ducked his head, expecting Merlin to change, but then he didn't.

Arthur jerked his head towards the doors, expecting Gaius or Morgana, but two guards dressed in Essetir colors and Cenred stood proudly in the center of the room. Arthur sat up, stretching his arm in front of Merlin.

"Arthur," Cenred leered, looking past him. "Sorry to interrupt. I expect this to be a brief visit."

"What are you doing, Cenred? These are my personal chambers."

"Ah, my apologies. I'm just coming to collect what is mine, then I'll be on my way."

"What is yours?"

"Don't be naive," Cenred sent his taunting sneer. Arthur's eyes dashed to the scabbard on the table and Cenred followed suit. "Ah, where is he? Merlin?"

"I don't know—"

"We both know you can see him, whether you're a sorcerer or some offspring of magic, who cares, you know where he is." Cenred's voice rose to a sharp octave, something sudden and unnatural. Arthur eyed him carefully, feeling the madness was catching up to Cenred's mannerisms. "Fine, here are your options. Either I continue to send your father into a fit of lunacy, perhaps making him imagine a sweet stroll with his wife off the edge of your highest tower or he can lose in a duel against me on the grounds that I inherit Camelot. Or we can do this the _noble _way so that nothing terrible happens to your family. Which do you choose?"

Arthur really had no options at all. Merlin wasn't Excalibur, somehow he hadn't changed back. He refused to reveal him, but he didn't want to risk his father. Arthur went to open his mouth.

"I'm right here, Cenred." Merlin's voice was more authoritative, deeper than Arthur was used to. Arthur dropped his arm slowly and twisted to glance at him. Merlin was staring unflinchingly at Cenred, a defiant fierceness running rampant in his eyes.

"And you are, boy?"

Merlin had a sharp, watery smile. "Can't see what's right in front of your nose?"

Cenred seemed to realize the change and his chest rose faster with the fervid excitement in his eyes. "Merlin. You show yourself to me at last. It is an honor."

"Can't say the same to you."

"Come now," Cenred rumbled smoothly. "Don't you remember all the fun we had all those years ago? I was not an enemy of magic as Uther or Arthur—"

"Arthur is not my enemy. Just as you were never a _friend _to magic. I didn't ask to help you, I didn't want to."

"But you will, Merlin," Cenred said slowly as if speaking to a child. "It's your only purpose on this earth. Magic of your magnitude, power of your caliber, it's not meant to be used by weak men with small ideas or no understanding of the world. I've lived long enough to understand the plight of sorcerers. I've seen the good and bad mankind hath wrought with and without magic. You exist to change the _world_. I understand your purpose. I know how to carry it out."

"I've already found my purpose," Merlin rumbled. Then items across the room began to float, and before Cenred or his flanking sorcerers could turn around, they whizzed through the air and clonked them on the head. Arthur flinched, hearing the harsh cracks and knowing such blows once or twice in his life. They crumpled to the floor and Arthur turned.

"Really Merlin?" Arthur sighed. He stood from the bed and carefully crouched next to all the bodies to assure they were knocked out.

"I didn't kill them," Merlin sighed, disgruntled.

"Don't blame me for checking," Arthur huffed, then he found himself in a deprecating laugh. "Did you just solve our problems on accident?"

"Cenred was never a problem as long as I stayed human." Then Merlin's eyes lit up as he recalled his words. "I'm still human, I didn't change."

"Your curse is broken?"

"I can live my life. I can meet people, walk the square!"

Arthur couldn't fight the joy rising in Merlin's face and smiled with him. "That's the height of your imagination? I'm underwhelmed."

"Are you saying that because now you'll have to introduce me to all your knights?" Merlin teased.

Arthur felt his face warm and turned back to the unconscious bodies. "I have no idea what you mean."

Merlin hummed and to the left, the side windows burst open with a strange wind. A long floating line of rope came through the windows and began to snake around Cenred and the other two men. To the right, the doors burst open again with Morgana and Gaius.

"Merlin!" Morgana exclaimed. She shuffled across the room, touching him at the arms and checking his face. She sighed, relieved when he looked unharmed.

Arthur looked to Gauis. "What are you two doing here?"

"Morgana heard Cenred coming up to your rooms and became concerned. She woke me and hoped we wouldn't find you two hanging by your toes."

"You really don't know the sorts of visions I've had about Cenred. He's terrible to sorcerers. His rule would be no different than Uther." Morgana stopped her coddling of Merlin to notice Cenred on the floor. "Oh, and there he is. What happened?"

"Merlin saved the day," Arthur acknowledged and Merlin preened in his seat.

"Ah, well that makes sense," Morgana acknowledged.

"Are you saying I couldn't knock out Cenred and some sorcerers?"

"Don't talk nonsense, Arthur."

Merlin snickered and this was one of the few reasons he'd hate them to be friends.

"Well, we clearly have no time to waste," Gaius chimed. "With Cenred tied down, we need to detain him in the dungeons and make sure none of his staff are loyal enough to break him out."

"You think none of them will be?" Arthur asked.

"A man that literally enslaves magic users to enslave more magic users? Do you think I chose Camelot for the festivals?" Gaius sassed. Arthur shrank in his crouch as he observed that backtalk must be a quirk of every magic user.

Merlin interjected that Arthur was too tired from his journey to deal with Cenred and the following interrogations that would follow. There was also the matter of curing Uther from whatever enchantments were cast on him and settling matters with the counsel. Arthur, as heir, was meant to oversee it all and Merlin insisted on resting. Morgana and Gaius were happy to deal with Cenred until then and Merlin tucked Arthur into bed, tight under the blankets. Arthur felt as if he was being treated as a child.

"You are a child," Merlin echoed when Arthur said as such. "You can't clean your room, can't dress yourself, can't make a bath, get jealous when people take your swords—"

"I don't love you anymore," Arthur pouted. "You can serve Morgana from now on. I doubt she would take this sort of abuse." It took a moment for Arthur to realize Merlin froze above him.

"You love me?" Merlin whispered.

Arthur held his breath. The crackle of the bedside candle mocked him for his slip up and flickered a wave to his pride. Arthur cleared his throat for a while. "Well, not anymore, as I just said—"

Merlin tugged at Arthur's head to turn towards him and placed a messy kiss on his lips. It was urgent but tender and full of so much passion Arthur was awake in an instant. Waves of Merlin's magic surged down his throat and fueled his lungs. It was perhaps the closest sensation to devouring one's emotions, if Arthur had to describe it. It sent him straight into euphoria. Arthur was dizzy when Merlin finally pulled away, tilting forward to savor up to the last second.

"Do you want to know why I think the curse was lifted?" Merlin whispered.

Arthur's eyes were glazed, admiring the edges of Merlin's cheekbones or the perked lines along his lips. "Why?"

"Because I was made for you," he started. "But someone broke me, and you fought life and limb to put me back together. That sacrifice, that love. The same feelings I feel for you. That's my reason for living, Arthur. To be your other half. It's why I exist."

Arthur squinted. "Didn't I say this to you already?"

"Yes, but I said it better."

Arthur pursed his lips, having a stare down with Merlin. He leaned forward for a quick kiss, which Merlin pushed back to make a much messier kiss. Arthur grinned against it, bumping their teeth.

"You were made for me, huh?" Arthur breathed against Merlin's lips. "I like the sound of that."

"Just as you were made for me."


End file.
